


Endurance Limits

by clgfanfic



Category: Soldier of Fortune Inc.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from the episode "La Mano Negra"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endurance Limits

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Compadres #21 and later in Watch Your Six #5 with Mary Fallon Zane.

          Matt Shepherd followed the rest of his operators and Drummer through the thick Colombian jungle as they headed steadily for their extraction point.  Behind them Paharo's drug factory and rebel camp continued to burn, the sound of the crackling wood still loud in the silence the bombs had caused.

          Shepherd grinned as he walked, enjoying the post-mission rush that still hummed in his muscles.  He was proud of his people.  For a mission with considerably more downs than ups, they had hung in there and finished the job – although he was going to have to have a word with Trout about the exact nature of that job.  Somehow he had a bad feeling that they had all been used by CIA Director of Operations August, and he did not appreciate it, not one little bit.

His gaze swept over each of his people.  Margo in particular had proven – once again – just how resourceful she could be, not to mention how calm she could stay in the face of danger.  He would have to remember to tell her how well she had done.  But they had all done a great job, even if they had allowed themselves to be taken captive by the guerrillas.  They would definitely have to do a little refresher training when they got home so it wouldn't happen again.

But he had to admit that the guerrillas had the advantage; they knew the terrain, which was why Chance and C.J. had been the first captured.  They had been out there all alone.  And Benny Ray hadn't been in any condition to help when the revolutionaries had found their camp, along with him and Margo.  That wasn't going to go down well with the sniper.  _In fact, he's probably kicking himself about it right now_ , Matt thought.

Shepherd's gaze sought out his second in command.  Benny Ray Riddle was working his way confidently through the trees, and for a brief moment Matt felt a twinge of guilt over assigning the sniper to point.  He had done it without considering the fact the man had been injured.  But he seemed to be doing fine, despite the blow to the head he had sustained earlier in the day.

Simple accidents were Mr. Murphy's favorite way to bite an operator, and an operation, squarely in the ass, and Shepherd knew it.  A minor slip and he had almost lost the sniper.  C.J. was their expert climber, but he had a sore shoulder and that left the job of scaling the cliff-face to Benny Ray, who had done just fine until a sturdy-looking piece of rock had given way, the fall slapping the sniper's head against the stones.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Matt shook his head as an echo of the earlier panic he had felt, watching the man fall, flashed through his chest like a chill.  For a brief moment earlier, he hadn't been sure the sniper wasn't going to plummet all the way to the ground, but that, thankfully, had not happened.  And Matt had been very, very grateful when Benny Ray had quickly regained consciousness and seemed to be alert and more or less ready for action.

But the sniper had quickly deteriorated.  Or maybe Paharo's people had roughed the sniper up, aggravating the injury.  The image of the sniper as he had looked when Matt, Margo and Drummer had arrived in the camp flashed through Shepherd's mind.  Benny Ray's face had been pale and shiny with sweat, his eyes a little glassy, and his hand had trembled slightly when he reached up to wipe the beads of sweat off his upper lip.  Matt had wondered at the time if Benny Ray was going to make it through the rest of the operation, but he had, pulling his weight, just like the others.

He looked almost the same now, but he was moving swiftly, his steps confident and sure as he led them through the jungle, his gaze sweeping over the foliage, looking for trouble.

          _He's fine_ , Matt assured himself, allowing his own attention to shift back to his surroundings as well.  The last thing he needed was to get caught off guard by some of Paharo's people after their mission was done.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Less than an hour later they arrived at the extraction point, the team quickly fanning out and taking up defensive positions, just in case the rebels had decided to follow them.  They would be the most vulnerable when they were extracted.  Shepherd pulled the satellite phone from the large thigh pocket on his uniform to call for their ride.  The ETA he was given was twenty-five minutes, which he passed along to the others.

          Fifteen minutes into their wait, Matt keyed his lip mike and said, "Report."

          "No movement, sir," Chance replied first.

          "All quiet," C.J. said next.

          "Quiet here, too," Margo agreed.

          "Yeah, same in my little corner of the world," Drummer added, his tone half-teasing, half-mocking.

          _Cocky bastard_ , Shepherd thought, but he still grinned.  Drummer was all right.  He waited for a moment, his brow furrowing, then he asked, "Benny Ray?"

          There was another silent pause that lasted a second too long.

          "Benny Ray, report," Matt repeated.

          "Yes, sir," the sniper's voice replied, sounding thick and slightly slurred.  "Uh, no activity."

          "Benny Ray, work your way back to me," Matt instructed.

          "On m' way, Major," was his immediate reply.

          Shepherd waited, his gaze continually sweeping over the thick foliage, looking for movement or shadows to alert him to approaching trouble.  A few moments later he heard the sniper's voice announce, "Comin' in."

          Matt watched Benny Ray ease silently through the underbrush and squat down next to him.

"What's up, Major?" the sniper asked, his eyes squeezed half-shut.  Matt guessed it was to limit the amount of sunlight, the brightness probably adding to the man's headache.

          Shepherd made a quick assessment of his second in command – still pale and sweating, eyes a little glassy, hands trembling, panting for breath.  "I want you to stay here, take it easy," he instructed.

          Benny Ray frowned.  "I'm fine, sir."  He turned to head back into the jungle.

          "Glad to hear it, but that's an order, Benny Ray, not a request."

          The sniper turned back, his eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded.  "Yes, sir."

          Matt had expected more of a fight, and he wasn't sure he was happy about the easy capitulation or not.

"I need an honest answer from you," he said sternly.

          The sniper met Shepherd's eyes, waiting.

          "You have a headache?"

          "Yep."

          "Nausea?"

          "Some.  Ain't too bad."

          "Dizzy?"

          The sniper hesitated, then nodded, saying, "It was worse when I was movin', but it's gone now."

          "Blurred or double-vision?"

          "A little blurred at first, but that's gone, too."

          Matt nodded.  It wasn't as bad as he had thought, although the man's voice was still slightly thick.  "Listen up, I want you to lay down and get some rest."

          Benny Ray frowned.  "I feel fine, Major."

          "Maybe so, but you look like hell, so you're doing what I said, right?"

          With a resigned sigh the sniper stretched out on the ground, Matt using the half-empty duffel bag to raise his head and shoulders.  He thought for a moment, trying to remember if there was anything else he was supposed to do, but he couldn't come up with anything.

Patting Benny Ray's shoulder he said, "Hang in there.  Our ride'll be here before you know it."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          It was Drummer who heard the approaching chopper first.  "Here comes the taxi, kids," he announced over his lip mike moments before the others heard the distinctive sound as well.

          When the helicopter was on station overhead the small clearing, a nylon rope was tossed down to them.

"Okay, people, let's go home," Matt said, helping Benny Ray to his feet and frowning.  If anything, the sniper looked even more pale than he had before.  He watched the man swallow several times before he started to reach for the duffel bag.  "I've got it," Shepherd told him, leaning over and grabbing the bag.

Together the two men started over to join the others, both moving with their weapons held at the ready.  From the corner of his eye Shepherd saw Benny Ray stumble, but he caught himself and kept going.

Several yards short of the others the sniper's knees buckled and he went down like he had been clubbed over the head.

          "Benny Ray!" Matt barked, moving immediately to the man's side and turning him over even as he scanned the terrain for any sign that they had been attacked.  "Benny Ray?" he called again, lightly patting the man's cheek.  The sniper's skin was cool and clammy to the touch.

          Shepherd tried waking the man again, but nothing he did had any effect.  He looked up to find Chance and Drummer standing there, ready to help, then glanced over at Margo and C.J., who were crouched nearby, covering them.

"Chance, go, cover them," Matt ordered.  "Margo, C.J., get into the chopper – now!  Drummer, help me get him up."

          Each of the operators did as they were told, Matt and Drummer quickly carrying Benny Ray the rest of the way to the small clearing while C.J. and Margo were pulled up.  When the rope was tossed down a second time they quickly hooked the sniper up, then Shepherd pointed to Chance, who quickly slipped into the second harness.

          While Matt and Drummer covered them on the ground, Margo and C.J. from above, Chance and the unconscious sniper were pulled up and into the hovering chopper.

Moments after the two men disappeared inside, the rope was tossed back out and Matt and Drummer secured themselves to the line, the duffel dangling below them on its own safety hook.

On their way up, Drummer grinned at Matt, saying, "Not bad, Shepherd!"

The former major grinned back.  "Yeah?  Well, you're not so bad yourself.  Looking for work?"

Drummer snorted.  "With you?"

"Why not?" Matt asked.

"Maybe," the former SEAL said, "once I have my, uh, legal issues worked out."

Matt nodded, but before he could say anything else they were being dragged into the chopper.

They shrugged out of their harnesses as they moved back from the open hatch.  It was then Matt realized Benny Ray was still lying on the deck, his legs and arms twitching uncontrollably while Margo sat next to him, holding his head in her lap, her expression a mix of fear and concern.

          "What's going on?" he demanded loudly so she could hear him over the engine whine.

          "Convulsion, I think.  I'm not really sure," she replied, her green eyes full of worry.

          "Christ," the former major breathed.  He grabbed one of the communication headsets and pulled it on, then looked at the two men who had worked the winch, snapping, "I need to get him to a hospital – now!"

          One of the men flashed him a thumbs up.  "Already on the way, Major.  Just sit back, we'll get you there A-S-A-P."

          Shepherd hung the headset up and scooted over to Benny Ray, sitting next to him on the floor of the chopper and wishing there was something more he could do.

          _Hang in there_ , he thought silently.   _Just hang in there.  It won't be long…_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          In Panama, Matt paced in the U.S. military hospital waiting room, nervous energy making it impossible for him to sit down.  The rest of his people were scattered around the room, each having found their own way to pass the time.  On the sofa, Margo was thumbing through all the old magazines.  Chance, in one of the chairs, sat with his eyes closed, breathing deeply, but he wasn't sleeping.  C.J. sat at the other end of Margo's sofa, his fingers drumming silently on a small throw-pillow he had in his lap, beating out a tune only he could hear.  Drummer had lain sprawled and sleeping on the second sofa until two of Trout's men arrived to escort him back to Washington almost a half-hour earlier.

          Matt had tried sitting, reading one of the magazines, even watching CNN on the old television set in the corner, but he just couldn't focus.  So he paced, and waited.

          But now he stopped, deciding he had reached the end of his patience and was going to get some answers, one way or another, a moment before he spotted an older man walking purposefully down the hall toward them.  His sudden stillness was enough to apprehend the others' attentions.

          They waited in silence for the man to reach them and say, "Hello.  I'm Doctor Abernathy.  I treated Mr. Riddle."

          "How is he, Colonel?" Matt asked immediately, noting the man's silver eagles.

          The older man flashed then a well-practiced, comforting smile.  "He'll be fine, just fine.  Took quite a knock on the head, but the neurologist doesn't think he has a concussion.  I'd—"

          "But the spasms earlier?" Shepherd interrupted.

          The doctor paused a moment, then said, "I have a feeling that was more shock than a convulsion caused by the head injury, but we're running a few tests just to be sure.  And we'll be keeping him here at least until tomorrow morning.  From what I was able to get out of Mr. Riddle, it sounds like he exerted himself a great deal following the injury."

          "Some, yes," Matt said, suddenly feeling very guilty, and more than a little embarrassed, although he knew he hadn't done anything wrong.  Not exactly, anyway.  He had just let Benny Ray do the job the sniper expected to do.  So why did he feel like he had failed the man somehow?

 _Because I didn't see how serious his injury was_ , he answered himself.

"All the tests we've run so far have come back negative for a concussion," Abernathy said, "so I really don't think we have to worry.  He'll be fine."

"When can we see him?" Margo asked the doctor.

          "He's in his room, so you can see him any time you'd like.  It's 255."

          "Thank you, Doctor," Matt said, proffering his hand.

          Abernathy shook Matt's hand, saying, "Not a problem."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The team headed straight for the elevators, riding up to the second floor.  After a quick check of the plaque that listed the room numbers, along with directional arrows, they turned to the left and walked about halfway down the hallway until they found the correct room.

          Chance pushed the door open and they all followed him inside, Matt bringing up the rear.

          Benny Ray was leaning back against two pillows, the head of his bed elevated so it looked more like he was sitting in a chair rather than lying in a bed.  Across the room a small television was on, CNN reporters passing along the news of the day.

          The sniper's scalp had been cleaned, new butterfly stitches added to hold the skin closed so it could heal.  The bruise was more colorful, mottling the left side of his face and making his left eye puffy.  He grinned when he saw them and waved them over.

          "You look terrible, mate," C.J. told him, smiling and shaking his head.

          The sniper shrugged one shoulder and said, "Beats dead."

          "Amen to that, Brother Ray," Chance said, reaching out to grab the man's hand and give it a shake.  "How're you feeling?"

          Another of the half-shrugs, and, "Not too bad.  Still got a helluva headache, but I've had worse."

          "When are they going to let you go home?" Margo asked.

          "Not sure.  But y'all don't have to wait for me.  Go on home."

          "We'll wait," Matt said, his tone telling the sniper there was no reason to argue; he'd lose.

          Benny Ray's gaze met Shepherd's briefly, then he dipped his head and said, "I appreciate it, sir."

          "The doctor said everything looks fine so far.  You'll be out of here in a day, two at the most," Matt replied, hoping it wasn't just wishful thinking on his part.

          "Sounds good.  The sooner the better," Benny Ray said, then looked at Margo.  "You okay?"

          She smiled and nodded.  "Of course."

          He nodded, but he didn't look all that convinced.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Four hours later, Margo stepped back into Benny Ray's room, showered and dressed in civilian clothes she had picked up from the base PX.  He looked up from the magazine he was reading, his cheeks immediately turning rosy.

          "Hi," she greeted him.

          "Hi," he replied, looking even more uncomfortable as he stared at the open magazine in his lap.

          "Head feeling any better?" she asked.

          "A little," he said.  "Where is everybody?"

          "Getting some sleep.  They gave us a couple of rooms."

          He nodded, then asked, "Why aren't you doin' the same?"

          "I wanted to talk to you," she said, walking over to grab one of the chairs in the room and pulling it over to sit down next to the bed.

          "Yep," he said softly.  "Guess we ought t' clear the air."

          Her eyes widened slightly.  "Pardon?"

          He shook his head, saying, "Go ahead."

          She hesitated a moment, then said, "I just wanted to apologize."

          His head came up, eyes rounding with surprise.  "Apologize?  What for?"

          "Letting us get captured," she said simply.

          He shook his head.  "That was my fault, not yours."

          "You were hurt.  It was _my_ job to make sure the camp was secured, not yours."   He stared to argue with her, but she cut him off.  "And I _know_ you don't think you're Superman, so you know I'm right."

          Benny Ray sighed heavily.  "I still feel like I let you down, the Major, too."

          "Well, you didn't let me down.  I just didn't see them coming until it was too late."

          "I didn't see 'em comin' at all," the sniper admitted, making her smile.

          "I also appreciate what you tried to do in the camp," she told him.

          "Just felt a little too much like Grand Cammore," he admitted.

          She nodded.  "I'd be lying if I didn't say I was thinking the same thing.  But nothing happened.  In fact, Paharo was a perfect gentleman, for a murdering narco-guerrilla."  She smiled.

          "Glad to hear it," the sniper said, meeting her eyes for the first time.

          "Matt's feeling a little guilty, though."

          "The Major?  Why?"

          She hesitated, trying to find a way to explain, but Benny Ray saved her the effort.

          "He kickin' himself 'bout me?"

          She nodded.

          "Hell, wasn't his fault.  I was feelin' shaky, but didn't think I was that bad myself.  How was he supposed to know?"

          "I should've seen you were having trouble," came Matt's voice from the open doorway.

          Margo and Benny Ray both watched the man walk in to join them.

          "Like I said, I didn't even know I was havin' that much trouble.  No reason you should've."

          Matt shrugged.  "That's my job, Benny Ray."

          The sniper grinned.  "I'd say you had a lot more t' worry about than my sorry ass, sir."

          "Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree," Shepherd said.  He reached out and clapped the man's shoulder.  "I'm just glad you're all right."

          "Yes, sir.  Next time I'll just have t' remember not t' slip."

          "Next time find a foothold that won't give way," Matt told him.

          "That what happened?" the sniper asked.  "Don't remember.  Just remember startin' up the cliff, then being in camp when you were puttin' me back together."

          "I hear that's pretty normal," Margo offered.

          Matt nodded.  "Yeah.  A foothold crumbled, snapped you right into the side of the cliff-face.  Knocked you out for a minute or two."

          "Who got me off?"

          "Drummer," Matt said.  "The idiot made the climb without a line.  Looked like a damned mountain goat."

          "Guess I owe the man," Benny Ray said, looking thoughtful.

          Margo grinned.  "I'm sure he'd be more than happy to collect, too.  _If_ he can talk his way out of jail."

          "He'll be fine," Matt said.  "He's got all he needs to clear himself.  I just hope it's enough to bust Director August's hump."

          Margo nodded, her eyes narrowing.  "I don't appreciate being used like that."

          "None of us do," Matt assured her, then he looked at Benny Ray.  "I just talked to Dr. Abernathy.  The rest of the tests came back negative.  He says he'll cut you loose tomorrow morning.  I called Trout; our ride'll be waiting.  We should be home before suppertime tomorrow."

          The sniper nodded.  "Glad to hear it.  I'm already goin' stir crazy."

          Margo grinned again.  "What, you're not taking the time to get caught up on your reading?" she asked, nodding at the magazine still lying open in his lap.

          "Hell, Margo, they don't have anything I read."

          Her eyes widened.  "What, no _Big Weapons?_   _Sniper's Digest?_ "

          Benny Ray shot her a sour frown, then grinned.  " _Soldier of Fortune_ …"

          " _Playboy_ ," Matt offered helpfully.

          Margo rolled her eyes as she stood.  "I'm going to go get some sleep.  Get some rest," she told the sniper.

          "Yes, ma'am."

          They watched her go, then Matt sat down in her chair, asking, "So, you doing okay?"

          "Sure," the sniper replied.

          "Gave me one helluva scare back there."

          "Sorry."

          "No need for you to apologize," Matt told him.

          Benny Ray shrugged, "I'm the one who slipped, then got caught."

          Matt grinned.  "Well, you weren't alone.  Chance and C.J. were too, and they didn't have a knock to the head."

          Benny Ray met Matt's eyes, saying, "It could've gotten damned ugly, sir.  For Margo."

          Shepherd nodded, his expression turning stony.  "I know.  But it didn't."

          "Ain't the point."

          "Yeah, it is," Matt countered.

          "I could've gotten her killed, Major."

          Shepherd sighed and thought for a moment.  "I see what you're saying, but she knows the risks.  It's her choice.  And you can't blame yourself if something happens.  You were hurt."

          "I was stupid."

          "We all make mistakes, Benny Ray, you know that."

          The sniper huffed softly, but he didn't argue, knowing Matt was right.  "I just hate the thought that—"

          "We all do," Matt interrupted.  "Believe me."

          "Guess I need to spend some time on a climbin' wall, then the real thing.  Don't want it to happen again."

          Shepherd nodded.  "We all need that.  And I want to run some training missions to make sure we don't all get caught with our pants down again."

          Benny Ray grinned.  "Don't recall you getting' caught."

          Shepherd snorted.  "Only reason I didn't was because I was trying to catch up to Drummer."

          "Guess we all owe him, then," the sniper concluded.

          Matt shook his head.  "Don't remind me."  Then he reached out and gave Benny Ray's shoulder a squeeze.  "We all did the best we could.  It worked out.  End of story."

          "Yep," the sniper agreed.  "Lived t' fight another day."


End file.
